Page 73 of Fate’s Sweetest Curse (Mirrors of Fate #2)

Hattie’s Conundrum

Noble

N oble cupped Hattie’s beautiful face in his palms. “You said you need a new last name?” he asked. “Take mine.”

A tear tracked down her cheek—her flushed cheek. He took that as a positive sign. “You say that like it’s simple.”

He offered her a soft, hopeful smile. “It is simple, isn’t it?”

Moments ago, Noble had awoken to two familiar voices arguing. He hadn’t followed at first, but as consciousness had returned to him, he’d begun to catch on. After all, it wasn’t a new argument—just new circumstances.

Even if his father was right about her name, nobody would be looking in the Census Ledgers of Fenrir for Noble’s . And unlike nine years ago, their connection to Castle Wynhaim was diminished; unlike nine years ago, they didn’t have status or his potential Mighty Knighthood standing between them.

It was not a perfect answer, but it had potential.

“But our history…” Hattie said. “We’ve spent the past few months trying to hide how we know each other because of what could be inferred.”

“In a city, being associated with me matters,” Noble reasoned. “But somewhere remote…somewhere like Waldron…” A smile teased his lips. “You saw it yourself. Nobody knew who I was. Nobody recognized my name. ”

Hattie placed her palm over his heart. “Are you sure you’re in your right mind?”

Noble didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, nor did he remember much from his rampage, but he knew he loved her. “Is that a yes?”

Her cheeks tightened with a smile, tears welling in her eyes again. Unable to help himself, he pressed another kiss to her perfect mouth, absolving her of the need to answer. Yet .

Love wasn’t the issue at hand, of course. Love couldn’t guarantee that his proposal was a viable solution to her problem.

Noble glanced at the shadow looming a few feet away. “What do you think, father?”

Noble hadn’t seen General Asheren in nearly a decade—not since their argument after he failed to become a Mighty Knight. New wrinkles creased Kalden’s brow, more silver threaded his beard, but otherwise, he appeared just as steely as always.

Or…perhaps not?

Noble’s head hurt and his eyes ached from the brightness in the tent—the white canvas was washed-out and glaring with sunlight—but that didn’t stop him from noting the slight wobble in General Asheren’s bottom lip, the moisture in his eyes.

It was about as much affection as Noble could expect from his father, yet seeing the relief there—the genuine tenderness—touched him deeply.

Kalden cleared his throat. “Your association with Hattie remains a hazard. It’s an imperfect solution.”

Leave it to Kalden to ruin a romantic moment.

Hattie rose from her position in front of Noble, allowing him to come to his feet. Vague memories of his legs breaking backward made him wince, but as he stood, his calves and thighs felt normal. Strong.

“Does a perfect solution exist?” Noble asked.

“Aside from death?” Hattie added, coming to stand at Noble’ s side.

Her tone was sarcastic, but there was an edge of truth in the suggestion, and Noble frowned. “Death is not an option,” he all but growled.

“I didn’t suggest it was,” Kalden stated.

Perhaps not, but Noble wouldn’t put it past his father to silently consider it.

After all, it had been one of Kalden’s soldiers who attempted to take Hattie’s life the first time.

Kalden might not have suggested such a ruthless thing, but he had a way of cultivating extreme loyalty in his subordinates.

Brendan was a perfect example. Noble had escaped Kalden’s shadow, while Brendan had made it his home.

Fates , at what point had Noble become glad he never lived up to his father’s wishes? It was a new feeling for him, but he liked it. It was freeing.

“Nobody wants me to exercise my claim,” Hattie said, bringing Noble back to the present issue. “Even if there are rumors, no one would want to sabotage Raina and Archer’s union—not when the majority of Maronans and Lothgamian’s are in favor of the match.”

“There are always contrarians,” Kalden countered, but the argument was half-hearted.

Noble took advantage of the moment of weakness. “Let us marry. Let her take my name. Let us disappear in Fenrir. She’ll be all but invisible there, and—”

“She still knows too much. We can’t risk you two returning to Fenrir and exposing last night’s findings to your Adept.”

Last night . So, he hadn’t been unconscious for long.

Noble looked down at Hattie again. “What happened last night?”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “Do you not remember?”

Noble closed his eyes for a moment, trying to see through the lingering fog in his mind.

He remembered Brendan finding him by that tree .

He remembered being fitted with chains and dragged into a war camp.

He remembered Hattie, injured, and his instant rage.

The rest was a series of vague flashes of gore and screaming, and the dazzling blue light of a sword on fire.

Then, peace. Sunlight on his face, in his veins.

Belated realization hit him square in the chest, and he turned to Hattie, overcome with pride. “You discovered the cure.”

She frowned, nodded.

“How did—” he broke off. She could tell him all about her brilliance later. Right now, their future took precedent. Noble faced his father again. “You’re afraid the Lord will use Hattie’s discovery to further his plan—but Phina won’t take part in that.”

“Hattie expressed a similar sentiment,” Kalden said tightly.

“If you keep us out of Fenrir, the research will continue,” Noble said. “Let us return to the Collegium. Let us persuade Phina to shut down her program.”

“You truly believe you can convince an ambitious Adept of Alchemy to give up—”

“Yes,” Noble interrupted. “Phina endures the long days and oppressive oversight because she believes in her work, but I know for a fact that she hates the lifestyle. If we communicate to her that her program is corrupt—”

“You mustn’t give her the cure,” Kalden insisted. “It will advance the Lord’s research in creating the weapon he seeks.”

“Phina doesn’t have to know,” Noble said.

“She will, though,” Hattie cut in. “As soon as she sees you, she’ll know.”

“How? ”

Hattie grazed her fingertips across his collarbone, sending a shiver through him. He’d almost died, but he never felt more alive than when she was near. “Your Oath tattoos are gone.”

His hand flew to his throat, as if he could feel the missing mark from the Order of the Morta.

His skin was smooth—same as always—but when he turned his attention inward, the old magical tether was oddly…

nonexistent . He felt like a dog whose collar had been removed, its absence more noticeable than when it had still been wrapped around his neck.

When he checked his wrist, his Oath of Allegiance tattoo was also gone.

“How will Phina know that’s a result of the cure?” Noble asked Hattie.

“Because Anya and Idris lost their Oaths, too—as soon as their blood mingled with the water from the Well of Fate.”

A sudden clamminess swept over him. Noble stepped back from her, as if seeing her from a different angle might help him understand her words better. When that didn’t work, he sank to the cot, disbelieving. “You mean to tell me…” he trailed off.

He had water from the Well of Fate in his veins?

That was how Hattie bound Gildium to Hylder?

How she altered the Arcane magic of his curse?

The notion seemed to go against the Fates themselves, and yet—it made sense .

Hadn’t his monstrousness gone against the Fates, too?

Why wouldn’t the cure be just as unnatural ?

Hattie sat beside him and rubbed his back. He allowed himself a moment to recover, then looked to his father again.

“Phina won’t want a discovery like this to fall into the wrong hands—even if those hands are that of her Lord,” Noble said. “Even if those hands are her own.”

“You mean to tell me that Phina Farkept would be content with never learning the cure, purely for the sake of undermining her Lord?” Kalden asked. “Her brother is a Major of the Mighty in Fenrir. ”

“Their allegiance is with their territory, not the corrupt headpiece pulling their strings,” Noble said. Of that, he was certain.

But Kalden shook his head. “I can’t put my trust in an alchemist I’ve never met. Not when the Fate of the realm is at stake.”

“I understand,” Noble said, “but can you put your trust in your son?”

Kalden—who’d been scratching his beard—let his hand fall to his side. He regarded Noble—really, truly regarded him—and Noble felt as if he were sixteen again, standing before his father with a practice sword. Only this time, it wasn’t approval he sought from his father—it was respect. Faith .

“I will trust you in this, Noble,” Kalden began slowly.

From beside him, Hattie let out a whoosh of breath.

“But I have a duty to my king. I cannot allow my affection for my son to endanger—”

Noble chuckled. He couldn’t help it. “Since when has your affection for me ever clouded your sense of duty?”

Kalden’s eyes cut to Hattie, then back to Noble. It was barely a glance—a fraction of a second—but it was enough to tell Noble everything about how that fateful day nine years ago had gone.

Kalden—Noble’s own father— had wanted to eliminate Hattie for the sake of Raina’s safety and the security of the kingdom’s future. He might not have made the call, but he’d considered it—perhaps that’s why his subordinate had taken charge.

Yet Kalden Asheren had held back. He’d spared Hattie and sent her away instead. For Noble’s sake. A trade of deep grief for a lesser sort. Hattie’s death would’ve broken Noble, but never seeing her again…that had been Kalden’s attempt at mercy.

Noble wasn’t heartened by the realization, but knowing his father had chosen his son’s feelings over the most secure outcome for the realm…it did help Noble see his father in a kinder light.

Noble stood to face his father. “What are your conditions? ”

Kalden squared his shoulders. “I will have knights of my regiment—not Brendan’s—standing by. One hint of Phina Farkept’s recalcitrance, and she will be dispatched. Do you understand?”

Noble nodded. “It won’t be necessary; she’ll comply.”

“Does Marona want the cure?” Hattie cut in, standing. “I can write down the formula.”

“That will not be necessary,” Kalden said. “We have no interest in cures, only eradication. Marona does not condone the use of arcane magic in the manner Fenrir has been exploring.”

“The materials Brendan provided me suggest otherwise,” Hattie said.

“Captain Harrow’s leash is about to get shorter.

” Kalden inclined his head, his tone taking on a stony authority, as if Noble and Hattie were knights under his tutelage.

“Concern yourself only with convincing Professor Farkept to shut down her program. Once you are successful, you will leave Fenrir and return to Waldron, where you will lie low.”

“What of Hattie’s conundrum?” Noble asked.

“You will be wed,” Kalden said flatly. “That will at least keep her name out of the Census Ledgers.”

Noble was unable to conceal his grin. His heart felt as if it’d sprouted wings; it lifted off, soaring. He spun around, ready to accept Hattie into his arms, but—

Her brows were drawn together, lips twisted into a contorted little frown. She’d wrapped her uninjured arm around her torso in a self-conscious hug, and when she met Noble’s eyes…there was apology in her pretty blue stare.

Then she lowered her arm to her side, balled her fist, and shifted her attention to Kalden.

“We will not be wed,” Hattie said.

Noble’s heart dropped from its flight like a stone.